


Once a Shield Maiden in Rohan...

by Cyphomandra



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross Over, Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyphomandra/pseuds/Cyphomandra
Summary: What if it wasn't Narnia on the other side of the wardrobe?(or, "Jack, old chap, I rather think a page of your latest minor opus has ended up in my manuscript.")





	Once a Shield Maiden in Rohan...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doranwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doranwen/gifts).



> Thanks to my beta [redacted] for quick comments and advice on Old English!

Lucy pushed past yet another coat, the heavy fur soft and warm against her face. Just how far back did this wardrobe go, and how many coats did the Professor need? One of her feet slid on a hard object - a shoe? - unsteadying her, and with her next step something tightened painfully around the other ankle and she nearly fell. She reached down blindly and tugged it free. When she brought her hand back up again it held a long piece of flat-bladed grass, dull grey in the dim light, and she could now see the thick clump of tussock she'd turned her foot on. Beyond it lay another clump, and another; a whole landscape of them in vigorous profusion. A thin line of gold edged the sky to her left, heralding the approaching sun, and the hills ahead rose up in sudden steepness to a mass of white-capped peaks.

It was chilly in the pre-dawn air, and she wished now she'd taken one of the coats from the wardrobe. The thought seemed to jostle something free in her mind.

"The wardrobe!" Lucy said. "Where am I?"

She turned around in the tussock. No coats, no wardrobe; only grassland and mountains, open and empty. Impossible.

Something shook the tussock vigorously nearby. Lucy jumped. A black-faced sheep shouldered its way through the grass and glared at her.

It made the situation ridiculous rather than frightening; a dream, where anything could happen and no doubt the animal would now speak to her. "Excuse me," Lucy said, amused by her own conceit. "Mrs Ewe. Could you perhaps tell me where I am?"

"Stand back."

For an instant Lucy thought the sheep had indeed hissed a warning at her, and then she realised a person had appeared silently from the tussock behind. A girl roughly her own age, wearing an old-fashioned dress; she held a curved wooden crook out in front of her as she crept up on the sheep. Ten steps away, five, three - she swung the crook around deftly to hook one of the sheep's back legs as she stepped up close to grasp its jaw with her free hand. The sheep startled but couldn't get away.

"Silly scèap." The girl trapped the crook under one arm and produced a halter, trying to tie it on one-handed while she restrained the sheep. It looked rather difficult. 

Lucy cleared her throat. "Can I help?"

The girl's gaze met Lucy's, assessing. "Are you stealing my sheep?" 

"Certainly not," Lucy said, offended. "I was asking her where I was."

A corner of the girl's mouth twitched. "I see."

Would she rather be taken for someone who talked to sheep, or mistaken for a sheep-stealer? "She was extremely unhelpful," Lucy added. She picked her way over to the girl and then stopped, not sure where to start.

"Hold this." The crook's end was thrust into her hand, and Lucy grasped it tightly.

The sheep was disinclined to take the halter at all. It attempted to bolt several times, but Lucy and the girl restrained it, and by the time they were finally successful Lucy was no longer cold, and the girl seemed much more friendly.

"Are your people nearby?" The girl brushed dirt off the skirt of her dress. "Visiting, perhaps?" She was contemplating Lucy's own navy serge skirt, which Lucy supposed did look odd by comparison. 

Lucy hesitated. "I'm lost. I'm not sure where my people are right now."

"You'd better come back with me." The girl tugged on the halter, and the sheep grudgingly followed. 

It was much lighter now, the sky a delicate china blue, and on the slope above the grassland the shadows Lucy had taken for valleys were now clearly buildings, their dark bulks secure behind a stout fenceline. Lucy could smell the rising smoke from cooking fires. Her stomach growled.

"Hungry?"

Lucy was rather. Breakfast - and the Professor's house - seemed a long time ago. She wondered uneasily how she was going to get back home.

"Do you live there?" Lucy nodded towards the buildings. She'd find a way back, once she knew where here was. And had something to eat.

The girl nodded. "With my family." She grimaced. "I wanted to find this one and get back before my brother woke up, but it took me longer than I'd planned. He'll tell me off about not fastening the pen properly, and he does go on so."

"Older brother?" Lucy said sympathetically.

The girl's eyes slid over to meet hers. "Do you have one, too?"

"I have two older brothers," Lucy said, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice, and then they were both giggling, the sound bright on the early morning air.

"I'm Lucy."

"Éowyn," the girl said. "Come on. We can sneak in through the back of the sæl and get some bread and cheese."

THE END


End file.
